Does It Always Hurt This Bad?
by deanandhisimpala
Summary: Tag to "Crossroad Blues". Dean and Sam argue in their motel after the car conversation. Oh, the angst...
1. Chapter 1

**So this one just came into my head again already fully written. It's a tag to "Crossroad Blues" back in Season 2 - an episode I loved. I REALLY wanted more after that one was done. This tag isn't really happy, it's pretty angsty. But I needed to write it, get it out of my head! I'm not completely pleased with it - there's a few things I'd like to change - but I've tried so many times and I'm stumped, so I hope you guys like it the way it is. :)**

**There's a second chapter if you want to read more, I'll probably post it in a couple of days.**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer - Oh if Dean were mine...**

**The title is from the unreleased demo song by Paul Stanley "When Two Hearts Collide".  
**

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Dean rolled his shoulders uneasily and glanced over at Sam, who was looking straight ahead, face expressionless. Well, maybe not completely expressionless. The bitch-face was kind of there.

Dean let out a tiny sigh and looked away. Crap, he hated the awkward silences.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, hating that his hands were getting sweaty. And a little sore from holding the wheel so tightly.

If Sam was going to yell at him, couldn't he just get it over with already? The suspense was scaring him. A little. Not that he'd ever tell Sam that.

He spotted a motel sign up ahead and quickly pulled over. To be honest, he was tired. And seriously getting uncomfortable sitting in the car with his silently furious brother.

He parked, and turned to face Sam. "Sammy…"

But Sam was already climbing out of the car, bitch-face securely in place now. Without a word, he headed for the office to get a room.

Dean sighed and slumped back against the seat. Great. Just great. Sam was so not making this easy.

He waited until Sam had come back into sight, and then he got out of the car and followed his brother inside their room.

No sooner had the door shut behind him, Sam turned around.

"How could you do it, Dean?"

There it was. As much as Dean was not looking forward to this conversation, a yelling, pissed off Sam was much better than a silent, furious Sam.

"Sam…" Dean tried, but Sam cut him off again.

"I mean, I just don't get it. After everything, Dad's deal and _knowing _how this stuff works and how it ruins lives, and – and _everything _you still considered it! You still were thinking about selling your soul! So Dad could come back!"

Sam's face was livid, and Dean involuntarily took a step back. He had to admit Sam was a little scary when he was like this.

"Sam, I…" he tried again.

"No, Dean, don't even _think _about telling me you weren't considering it! Because I KNOW you were!"

"So what if I was?" Dean finally managed to get in. "So what, Sam? The demon said that Dad was…" he stopped, swallowing. "Dad's really in Hell, Sam. He's really there, because of me. He's suffering and burning because of _me_."

All of Dean's old guilt had returned tenfold tonight, and once again that horrible weight had settled on his chest, threatening to crush the breath out of him. Already, it was getting heavier as he talked to Sam, making his throat tight and his eyes burn.

"No, Dean!" Sam yelled. "He is NOT there because of you, he's there because of HIM! It was HIS choice, HIS life, HIS deal!"

"But it's my fault."

Dean's voice was quiet. He didn't have the energy to fight tonight. Not with the demon's words still ringing his ears, images of his Dad screaming and burning floating around in his head.

"Dean, no it's not!" Sam was still yelling, but not as loud. "It's not your fault! You didn't DO anything! Was it your fault that the demon possessed Dad? Was it your fault we had the accident? No. You couldn't have stopped any of those things, no more than I could have! So if you're gonna keep on blaming someone, why don't you give me a turn? I couldn't save you. I couldn't stop Dad from making the deal. Maybe it's all MY fault!"

Sam's eyes were blazing, arms thrown wide. He looked even bigger than usual.

"Or how about you blame Dad? He's the one that started all this!"

Dean wasn't aware that he had moved until he suddenly had Sam against the wall, fists twisted in his shirt.

"Don't you DARE blame Dad. Don't you…"

He could feel his chin quivering, hated himself for being so close to tears.

"Dad just did what he thought was best! Don't say this is his fault, it ISN'T, it isn't."

Sam watched him, not struggling. "Well then, whose fault is it, Dean? Cause it sure as hell isn't yours."

Dean blinked at him, trembling.

"Dean, you've gotta stop blaming yourself! It wasn't your fault. Dad made his decision. And I'll tell you something, I'm sure glad he did."

Dean dropped his hands, backing up, gaping.

"You're – you're glad? How can you…"

"I don't mean I'm glad he's gone," Sam cut in quickly. "I mean I'm glad you're still here."

Dean drew in his breath shakily, watching Sam with desperate eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"Dean, if Dad hadn't made that deal, then you'd be dead. Dean, they had to bring you back… you DIED."

Sam's voice cracked on the last word, tears were pooling in his eyes at the memory.

"If Dad hadn't made that deal, you'd be gone. And I'd still be here, in this craphole of a world, without you." He locked eyes with Dean. "And you know something? I can't think of anything worse."

Dean shook his head, looking away, but Sam moved forward and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to look.

"Dean, I'm serious. I'm not happy Dad's dead. But I AM happy that he saved you."

Dean met his eyes, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay.

"And I need you to understand – please, Dean – what it would do to me if you had made that deal tonight."

Dean had nothing to say, and even if he did, he didn't think he'd be able to say it his throat was so tight.

"I can't live without you, Dean. And I won't. You understand me? I know you hate to think that Dad's suffering. But you know what, if there's one man that could withstand Hell and… I dunno, maybe even get out somehow – it's Dad."

Dean couldn't help smiling a little. Good old Dad. Tears burned his eyes anyway, he missed his dad so freaking much.

Sam squeezed his shoulder, eyes no longer livid, back to dark and puppy-dog.

"Please, Dean. Don't ever think about making a deal for Dad again. Please."

Dean sniffed, trying to pull himself together.

"Sam…"He stopped as his voice cracked, and cleared his throat. He couldn't look at Sam. "I appreciate what you're saying, man, I really do. But… how do I go on without Dad? I miss him so much, Sammy." He didn't want to look at Sam's sympathetic eyes, he knew if he did he would cry. And he was so not crying. "It just feels like… like this big empty hole inside me and it hurts so bad."

A little voice in his head was screaming _You don't have to tell Sam this! What are you doing? Do you want him to think you're weak? Do you want him to see that you really ARE weak? Stop now._

But for some reason he wanted Sam to know. Wanted Sam to understand why he'd considered making the deal, why he was acting the way he was lately.

"I just… I just want him back so bad, Sammy." Dean's voice cracked again, he rubbed a hand over his face hurriedly, cursing those stubborn tears.

"I know." Sam's voice was soft. "I miss him too, Dean."

Dean couldn't stop now. "So when I heard the demon say… I dunno, I just thought… ten years, it's…" he stopped, he could feel Sam's eyes burning into him.

"Ten years is what, Dean?"

There was tension in the air again.

"I dunno." Dean didn't want to say 'a long time', like he'd been thinking. He knew ten years wasn't really a long time, but it seemed like enough, if he had Dad back. Ten more years with Dad, and Sammy, back to being a family? It was all he'd ever wanted.

"A long time?" Sam finished it anyway, like he could read Dean's mind.

Dean had a vague thought of _"that's a little creepy"_ before Sam blazed on.

"It's not a long time, Dean! It's only ten years! And then what would I do without you? Huh? Then I'd be here with Dad, alone, and yeah I love the man but it's DAD, Dean. I'd kill him in a few minutes and then that would be it!" Sam's words would have been funny any other time, but he said them with the straightest face, and Dean knew he wasn't joking in the slightest.

"Maybe you'd have met someone by that time, Sammy. You'd be okay." Dean knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but right now he honestly didn't care. The empty pit inside of him was so big right now, he felt like it was going to swallow him.

"Maybe I'd have MET SOMEONE?" Sam was yelling like Dean hadn't heard him yell in ages. He couldn't help flinch a little. "Dean who CARES if I met someone? Do you really think I'd be happy if you were gone? You're my BROTHER, Dean. My BROTHER. Not just some random guy I've only known for a couple of years!"

Sam was starting to pace now, running one hand through his hair in frustration.

"Sammy…" Dean started to say, but for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Sam interrupted.

"No, Dean. Just shut up, okay? If all you're gonna say is stupid stuff that doesn't even make any _sense_ and you should know better than just _shut up_!" Sam's eyes were glistening with tears again. "You know, I've tried and I've tried to make you see how much you mean to this family – to _me_ – but God, sometimes I feel like I've gotten nowhere, Dean! I just don't know what to do anymore."

He stopped pacing and sat down on Dean's bed, putting his head in his hands.

Dean watched him from where he was standing, not sure what to do. He knew Sam cared about him. He knew that. But he honestly thought Sam would be okay without him. Hell, he'd been alright for those two years he'd been at Stanford. Hadn't even called. So what was the difference?

He was caught between fighting back tears and trying to think of something to say when Sam stood up.

"You know what, Dean… I'm done with this. I can't keep…" he stopped, and for one heart-stopping moment, Dean thought he was going to say he was leaving. But then, "I'm going to bed."

Sam brushed past him and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quiet click, leaving his brother standing motionless, a single tear escaping and tracking its way down his cheek.

TBC

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**What did you think? Please review on the way out and let me know. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I'm gonna start this with a HUGE thanks to everybody who reviewed the first chapter. You guys ROCK! You all left such wonderful reviews, it really means a lot - and really inspires a girl to write more! So THANK YOU.**

**I'm still a little iffy on this chapter, this was the one that was giving me problems. I just feel like it could be better. I did fix a bunch of stuff, so hopefully it's better now. Once again, thank you so much for reading and the awesome reviews - now, enjoy!  
**

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Sam hadn't slept. He'd gone to bed, but he couldn't sleep. It had been more of just an excuse to get away from Dean, because he felt like if he'd had the argument one second longer, he was going to say something he'd regret. And now he felt guilty for walking away from Dean like that.

It was just so _frustrating. _Why could Dean not see how much Sam cared about him? How important he was? How _needed_ he was?

He was damaged, Sam knew that. Scarred from many years of misery, loneliness, and abandonment. Sam felt a little flash of guilt, knowing he was one of the people who'd contributed to those scars.

Still.

He was trying to change it around now, trying to make Dean understand… he'd never meant to hurt Dean when he left for Stanford. Just trying to live his own life. Hell, if he could've taken Dean with him, he would've. But as if Dad would've stood for that.

Dad.

He was what this was so much about… Sam loved him, yet hated him at the same time for the lives he and Dean had.

Still.

Sam was grateful for what Dad had done this time. He'd saved Dean. Sam knew that without that deal, Dean would probably be dead right now. He squeezed his eyes shut, not letting that thought get very far. Dean was fine. Physically, anyway.

Sam sat up, glancing over at Dean's bed, a little afraid he wouldn't be on it.

But he was, curled up on his side, facing away from Sam.

Sam swung his legs over the side of his bed and crossed to the bathroom. He'd leave Dean alone for now, see what happened.

When he came back out, Dean hadn't moved. He was still wearing his jacket from last night, was on top of the blankets, like he'd just layed down and fallen asleep without meaning to. Probably had.

Sam walked over quietly and touched Dean's shoulder, prepared for his brother to jump. But he didn't, he just turned his head a little and looked at Sam. Okay, so Dean hadn't slept either. His eyes were red, and dark smudges underneath confirmed a sleepless night.

"Hey man," Sam said quietly. He felt even guiltier now, even though he had no reason to. He just hated seeing Dean miserable. Which was far too often these days.

He perched on the bed behind Dean, and waited for him to roll over. His brother did a few seconds later, then sat up, looking away quickly.

"What, Sam."

Sam swallowed hard. "Dean… you know what I said last night was true, right? About how important you are to me? How much it would hurt if you were gone?"

Dean nodded after a moment, still not looking at him.

"Then please, please promise me you won't even consider making a deal for Dad again."

Sam didn't know if it was too soon to bring it up again, but he honestly just wanted Dean to say it. Promise he wouldn't do it. Sam couldn't live constantly worrying Dean was going to sell his soul.

Dean nodded.

"I need to hear you say it, Dean. Please."

"I promise." Dean's voice was hoarse, eyes swimming with tears again. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam turned a little to see his brother better. "For what?"

"Everything. Sorry I was thinking about making the deal. Sorry I was thinking about leaving you." Dean finally looked at Sam. "Should never have thought about it, Sam."

Sam watched him closely. "Why the change of attitude, Dean?" He hardly dared to hope that he'd finally gotten through to Dean. He'd thought it would take longer. A lot longer.

"It's my job to protect you, Sammy. Can't just leave cause I want Dad back." Dean sniffed and rubbed his forehead. "Even if it is in ten years. Sorry."

Sam's heart sank. Okay, so he hadn't really got through. Shouldn't be surprised about that. He should've known it would come down to this, this would be the reason for Dean promising. He fought back frustration.

"And it's my job to protect you, Dean. So now you know the reason I can't let you make that deal. We need each other, Dean. I just can't live without you."

Dean flinched a little, clearly still battling with his emotions. "Alright, Sammy. I promise."

Sam felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Dean had promised. Twice. And if there was one thing Dean would never do, it was break a promise to him. Sam knew that.

"Okay." He smiled, and started to get up. So what if Dean was only promising because of his commitment to being Sam's protector? He'd promised. Sam would work on the rest later.

"One thing," Dean said, and Sam stopped moving. Dean's voice was so empty, like he'd been punched in the stomach and had no air left. "Does it always hurt this bad?"

Sam stared at his brother. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Dean stopped, swallowing hard. "I know there was Mom… but I was really young for the first few years after she died and… I don't really remember that much how it felt. I just know it felt bad. But this time…" He stopped again, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "It just hurts so bad, Sam. Just feels like… like I can't…" His voice cracked, he stopped talking and closed his eyes, covering them with his hand.

"I know, Dean."

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. He really wanted to hug his brother, but didn't want to make him even more uncomfortable.

"I know it hurts. And yeah. It always does hurt this bad." He paused, wondering if he should say what he was thinking, then decided yes, he should. "That's another reason I can't let you make a deal for Dad, Dean. I can't survive, I can't feel like this again. After Jess… And if it was you… it'd be a million times worse."

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Sam. Sam could see his whole soul, right through his eyes, the broken remains of his mental walls in pieces. It almost hurt to look at.

Then his brother nodded, tears clinging to his eyelashes, so close to falling, but not allowed. And Sam had hope, he had hope that Dean had finally realized what he would do to Sam by making a deal for Dad. Maybe now, now that he understood what Sam would feel like if he were gone… maybe now he wouldn't ever consider it again.

He smiled weakly at his brother. "But Dean… it does get better. Time… I know this sounds corny but time really does heal. And we have each other. We'll get through this man, together."

Dean sniffed and nodded again, leaning a little closer so his shoulder was against Sam's. Sam reached up and gently squeezed the back of Dean's neck, smiling sadly. "It'll be okay, Dean."

And it would be.

They'd make it through.

After all, they were together.

And that was all that mattered.

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**Well, what did you think? Good? Bad? Please let me know. :) I do love reviews. :D**

**Thank you all SO MUCH once again for reading and being so great to me with the reviews. You are all awesome!**

**I'll catch you on the flipside**

**Deanandhisimpala :)  
**


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